It really was a dark and stormy night
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon and Illya find themselves stranded in the middle of a wild storm, and seek shelter in a lone house. Pre-saga


It was cliché, but both Solo and Kuryakin realized they were literally caught outdoors on a 'dark and stormy night,' though for once Napoleon had no quip or pun commenting on that fact.

Their car had broken down seemingly in the middle of nowhere; a violent lightning storm was affecting the signal for their communicators, so they were cut off from headquarters.

Making their way down a lonely road to a house they'd passed while driving … and of course it started to rain; they hoped to find shelter and use the telephone there.

It wasn't a gentle rain, or even a moderate one; no, the sky opened up with a torrential downpour. The rain was blowing near horizontal.

As the agents fought their way against the howling winds, they found that pulling their suit jackets up over the heads was pointless. Both men were drenched through and through and were nearly knocked off their feet a few times until they finally made it to their destination.

"There!" Napoleon barked."I can see lights in the windows. Someone must be home!"

"Even if they are not, we need to get out of this now!" Illya shouted. "It is getting worse!"

They passed a large pair of wrought iron gates that opened on their own just as the agents approached them. The wind must have done that. There was a barely readable 'beware' sign on them, but on a night like this, surely no dog would be outside tolerating such weather.

Dashing up a winding path; the landscape surrounding the house was barren, almost a wasteland. To the right of the now visibly decrepit gothic home was a walled cemetery. Everything was colorless, reduced to black and grey; it was most depressing.

"Oh great, just what we need to see, " Napoleon finally had to say it, " _On the proverbial dark and stormy night."_ He pointed to the rather odd grave markers. Most of them were featureless statues, looking more surreal than true likenesses of human beings.

The partners trudged past and clambered up three steps to a covered porch. As they stood there dripping puddles around their feet, Kuryakin pressed the button for the doorbell and the sound it made was most unexpected.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that sounded just like a fog horn," Napoleon whispered.

The door slowly opened and they were met by...well if he was the butler; he had to be nearly seven feet tall, and looked like death warmed over. His face had a **green** -ish tint to it.

"Mmmmmmm," it growled. 'It' seemed apropos.

"Pardon me sir but our car…" Illya never got to finish his sentence as the monstrous man suddenly grabbed the Russian by the back of his jacket, Napoleon as well. They were lifted up and carried inside like sacks of potatoes.

" _ **Lurch**_ you can put them down." A man in a pinstripe suit bounded towards them as the giant followed his instructions."I presume you're here about our classified ad?"

"Ad, what ad?" Solo made the mistake of asking.

A woman wearing a skin tight black dress with long raven-like hair seemed to float towards them. Her skin was white as alabaster, as if it had never seen the light of day.

"We're missing Thing. You found him _n'est ce pas,_ " she crooned.

The fellow in the pinstripe suit suddenly moaned.

"Tish, _cara mia_...you spoke French!" He grabbed her hand and began passionately kissing it and quickly worked his way up her arm to her neck.

"Gomez, not now. We have company. Gentlemen, I'm Morticia and this is my husband Gomez Addams. Now you came about dear Thing?"

Napoleon smiled charmingly, trying to hide his growing uneasiness.

"Your _thing_? I'm sorry I don't know…"

"This old man," Gomez held out a copy of a newspaper with a small classified ad circled in red. It read "Liberal Reward- For missing Thing."

"Sorry no," Illya spoke at last."We...our car broke down and we were wondering if we might use your telephone to call our office?"

"Oh why didn't you say so," Gomez slapped him on the back. He was suddenly puffing on a pungent cigar that made Kuryakin sneeze."

" _Gesundheit!"_ A portly bald man dressed in a long black coat appeared, waddling into the foyer, and stood behind the others. His eyes were recessed, deep and dark. Somehow his head resembled a light bulb.

" _Danke. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?_ " Illya thanked him, asking the man if he spoke German.

"Huh? I have no idea what you're saying Mister. My name is Fester, what's yours? Are you here about Thing?"

"My name is Illya Kuryakin and this is my friend Napoleon Solo, as I was saying our car…"

"Kuryakin! That's a Russian name!" Gomez grinned. "We have family in the old country….dear cousin _Rasputin._ We haven't heard from him in quite a while. Not since he started hanging around with the Tsar...ah those were the days; the man put on quite a party at that Winter Palace of his."

Illya took a precautionary step backwards.

The living room just beyond where they were standing was filled with all sorts of bizarre things; a suit of samurai armor, a giant stuffed polar bear, a two headed tortoise, and there was a marlin's head mounted on the wall with… a leg protruding from its mouth. And...and a hangman's noose?

There were numerous odd, pieces everywhere, perhaps more like what one would find in wax museum or a house of horror? Not to mention the garish colors of the walls and the mish mash of furniture all being...pink?

An embroidery on the wall with a Latin motto did not bode well…

' _We feast on those who would subdue us.'_

For a second Kuryakin swore he heard the roar of a lion coming from upstairs. He pulled at Solo's sleeve, trying to get his attention.

"Ahhh, it's such a noble name, _Napoléon...n'est ce pas_?" Morticia smiled.

"Tish, you spoke French again!" Gomez grabbed her hand and began kissing her just as he'd done before.

The agent finally turned, looking each other in the eye. Thinking the same thought; they were out the door in a flash.

Thunder, lightning, rain and winds be damned; sleeping in the car didn't seem so bad after all. Figuring out they out what to do could wait until morning.

Napoleon and Illya had seen a lot of strange things in their tenure as U.N.C.L.E. agents, but these kooky and spooky people back there ranked at the top of the agent's 'weird-o-meter.


End file.
